Knowing Her
by yuki-ryou
Summary: Egoshipping GaryxMisty... [“Are you sad?” He repeats his question once again.] Gary Oak does not know anything about Misty Waterflowers, although her face is stained with dry tears, hollow eyes, and a sorrow expression which hurts him.


Author's Note: Yuki here of the twin Yuki – Ryou. Anyway, this is of course, my fic which I wrote and you can view it at – " " but anyway, other than that, I hope you guys like ego-shipping, in other words, Gary x Misty. To tell you the truth, I'm rather a May x Ash fan than Ash x Misty, no offense to you guys that like that pairing, but to me – I find it rather boring and I just love absolute crack and angst in Gary x Misty x Gary and yeah, unrequited isn't it? Reminds me that I rather liked Unrequited Love from Taiki-kun but too bad she isn't writing it anymore… wait, who am I to say? Aint I that author? Haha, to some of you whom already have noticed, I AM Taiki-kun and don't worry, most of the stories I've written on that account _will_ but updated; but currently I have writer's block on that… account, and so, well, wait til its un-haitus, ne? Anyway, enjoy that story and please review because I _am such a _comment-whore.

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon, nor any of the characters.

**Started: 091005**

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Knowing her,

By Yuki

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_There is only one happiness in life,  
to love and be loved._

- George Sand -

Gary Oak does not know anything about Misty Waterflowers and he's not sure if he wants to know anything about her now or in the near future.

He meets her though, surprisingly, at Ash's 'welcome back' party and he sees her sullen face moping around on the balcony, eyes sad and longing but face revealing the word unrequited love all over. He just stares at her for a moment, outside lounging and holding a concoction of wine, only half filled but long forgotten because of his gaze long ago preoccupied at staring at the red gym mistress, who was leaning against the balcony ramp on the second story of the Oak's manor. He sees her, and he wonders why she's not, as he remembered long ago, by his former rival's side.

Then, he turns to the boy, sixteen year old Ash Ketchum and sees that it is not Misty by his side now but a different girl. She is different, he sees. Every part of her is different. He mentally tells himself that it's been that way for awhile now, since the last time he saw the other during his trip through different islands, still remembering that the latter was still chasing his dream of becoming a Pokemon Master. He sees them together, those two – smiling, grinning, laughing, and the beginning of allocation – the sharing of gazes, sharing affection, sharing touches, sharing everything and anything that makes him wonder if Misty Waterflowers have or had ever existed in his former best-friend's life. He sees the difference in Ash, and compares the time the other boy was with Misty, and now with the time he is with this new girl, whose name was May.

He sees many differences, many comparisons, but very little similarities between the two female companions.

He then turns his gaze back at the red head that was still on the second floor and wonders if he should keep her company; maybe because of his pity towards her, or maybe because of something else. He's not sure though, but he walks inside anyway and ignores the gestures his previous cheerleaders or the conversations some people he recognized but didn't know their names try to construct. He ignores them, or excused himself as politely as he could, and found his way walking upstairs.

He doesn't say anything as he opens the door and peeps through the open space he allows himself to see, looking to see if she's still standing outside on the balcony story. He realizes that the veranda was connected to one of the guest rooms and he wonders how she found her way up here. He gives up that thought and silently, maybe as quietly as he could, walked inside without detection. He stops before thinking, why is he doing this? This _is_ his home after all, so why is he acting and thinking as if he's some burglar or thief going through a mission, preparing himself to kidnap someone or steal some valuable art? He shakes his head and instead, regains his usual composure and attitude, and chooses to let his presence become known.

Misty notices him fairly quickly but doesn't seem bothered with his presence. She ignores him as soon as she sees him and turns her gaze right back at the exciting scenery and colorful landscape with the setting sun painting across the orange, red, and faded together pinkish sky. She stands there, hands resting upon the white wooden slope of the protecting balcony ramp and takes a deep, silent breath, feeling the wind brushing her red long bangs against her face and flowing of hair like simple quivered water on a shallow lake, pass her shoulders and behind her back; glistening by the ray of the sun. She stands there, and Gary catches his breath with the sight before him, like something he would see in a portrait or maybe a scene from a movie.

Maybe it was part of his personality, or maybe it was totally a different reason, that he finally found himself uttering some quiet words. When he finally said them, he wasn't even sure if it was even _he _who had said those words or maybe it had been someone else, until he realized that he was the one who just asked, "Are you sad?" without any hesitation. Maybe it was really someone else, who had taken over his voice, but he still wasn't even sure until the girl finally turned her head to look at him, a responsive movement answering his doubt.

Her eyes were wide and gloomy, something that seemed to want to shatter his heart but he took a deep breath and found himself preparing for an answer. It was so silent that he wasn't even sure if _that_ action she made was real or if he was even there at all seeing anything real. Everything looked unrealistic, that he wasn't sure anymore.

And then, a wry laughter shattered the silence.

He than knew, with surprise, that _that_ was real – the bitter laughter, and that was all it took for him to draw back into reality, seeing just a girl he knew from his childhood days stand before him with distressing eyes and fiery red hair blowing against the wind. That was all it took for him to loosen his gaze upon her and realize that all along, he was creasing winkles under his eyes to just see her clearly, standing before a setting sun which was disappearing under a mountain before them seen as part of the landscape of Pallet Town. He tries to shield his eyes, but instead he can't feel his hand anymore and he finds himself standing motionlessly, unable to think, unable to speak, and unable to hear. All he _could_ do was see. See the dazzling sun and the flashing of dead eyes and also the burgundy hair which the light from the sun rays bounce upon, causing more brightness reflecting which he knew his eyes could not take sooner or later.

He saw it all, and then, maybe it was the brightness which ceased him to see her lips moving, but he heard her voice, for the first time in many years, come out slowly, lowly, whispery like a ghost, but also softly like a lullaby, say something like "I don't know".

Maybe it's just him, or maybe it's just something else that makes him think that she is different now, and that she is more dazzling than ever and that he has never known anyone depressing or good-looking like her with those kinds of eyes. He thinks that it might just be the sun that was searing her image from the background which made her look beautiful, or maybe it was the waltzing music which made her voice sound like melodies, or even just maybe the crimson etched color upon the sky plains which deepened the crimson hue of her hair – that made him think so, but he's not sure, and he leaves that thought alone.

"Are you sad?" He repeats his question once again, knowing that this time; maybe… just maybe, she would give him a better answer. He knows that she will, because her first answer was already said, and now she had to give him a different response, something different other than "I don't know" because that was the way things worked for him, or at least for him and Ash. So he was sure she would pick up these small habits between them, or at least it rubbed on her in the past few years of traveling with his former best-friend. In any case, speech dialogues and such were easy to pick up, and he was sure that his influence on Ash gave an influence on everyone else, and if he was wrong, than he could reel the answer out of her some other, diverse way.

He continues to look at her, and he slowly feels as if he's being nosy, or maybe he's pressing on a flimsy subject, but he feels that it's better for her _and_ him if she spoke the truth. He's not sure why he added himself in the equation, but he thinks that it'll work fine and nothing will change if he's part of it now. What would the answer be anyway, if the equation contains not numerals, not fractions, but just expressions and variables, such representing him, Misty, Ash, and May. He doesn't know how he fits in it, but he leaves that alone because he tells himself: he just does, and he doesn't feel like blowing his ego at the moment and he doesn't feel like changing the topic from before either.

There was a long period of silence, as if they didn't get enough of it, and time continued to drag on until he saw her lips part, intentionally to speak. Ten seconds passed, he mentally tells himself, although he's not sure why he's counting in the first place, before she whispers, "Because I think I love him." He wonders if she's going to say anything else, before he notices that her eyes are quivering and that she was holding back tears all this time, even if he didn't get a clear view of her face which was always facing the sun. By now though, the sun is already down, set, gone, and he can finally see her clearly without the light blinding his eyes. He immediately tells himself that it wasn't the sun that made her look beautiful, nor was it the music that made her voice sound so melodic, or the redness that illuminated her hair with such fascination, but it was just_ her_, and her sad empty eyes gazing upon someone she loved long ago, but was sharing this moment with someone else.

_"Because I think I love him,"_ she says, and he thinks that it sounds so bittersweet and so painful that it might've made him throw up if it wasn't appropriate for this moment. After all, no matter how gentlemen he tries to make himself be, or the way Misty spellbound him, at this instant, time and place; he is still Gary Oak in the inside and he just isn't used to girls talking about love, or anything like that. Even though he is sixteen, even though he dates, and even though he is mature – he still can't get rid of that childish side of him which makes him act so… awkward toward the certain subject of love. So when someone says "Because I think I love him", he isn't sure what he should do or say. And above all that, this is Misty he's talking about. He doesn't even _know_ her, so what _can_ he do for her?

Instead, saying the first thing that came to mind without reconsidering what it meant, he said, "You love him, but he loves someone else. So what are you going to do?"

He knows, from his perspective, his point of view, basing from his thoughts, choices and what he knows – that she can't do anything. She can't be the one who shares Ash's laughter, and she will not be the one walking beside him on journeys down either a vacant hall through a busy sidewalk, to a hot sandy dessert or a cold snow-covered pathway. Nor is she the one who will be tending to his wound when he's injured or help him when he's sick. She will not be the one who will find him when he's lost or be the core of his happiness; the only person that'll bring out his smile when he's down or the one that'll comfort him when he's sad. No, she isn't the one, and she will continue to not be the one who will say "I love you" and neither is she the one that will receive the "I love you too" in return or vice versa. That's the way it is, and he knows it, predicts it, and also knows that she knows it as well.

Gary Oak does not know anything about Misty Waterflowers and he's not sure if he wants to know anything about her now or in the near future. The things he does know about her is that she is a very sad person, who has unrequited love written all over her, and the person who is too dense and too stupid to not notice it really needs to catch on before something bad happens. He knows her eyes as well; the naked eye which reveals such blackness, such nothingness, in those blue orbs that makes him think that he's sinking in oblivion when his gaze falls upon her. He knows that he is, maybe, the only person who knows and has seen those eyes; because the next day when he sees her again, she covers her naked eyes with such a fake cheerful smile that he knows that she is trying her best to act as if nothing has happened. He, in addition, knows that she is most beautiful on sunny after noon's, when the breeze is fresh and active, and that she doesn't mind when the wind blows against her hair softly. He ponders if her red hair is smooth, maybe, but he doesn't know that as a fact. He leaves the knowledge he does know about her in the back of his mind until he sees her the next time, and he wonders if one day, she'll answer his question.

Gary knows however, that maybe later in the future, if she changes and is not the Mister Waterflowers of now; yesterday, today, or tomorrow, not the person who still loves Ash Ketchum, then maybe – just maybe – he would like to get to know her better.

FIN.

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**Ended:** 091005  
**Revised (1):** 091105  
**Revised (2):** 091305  
**Completed:** 091405 


End file.
